


Protection of the Holy Maiden B+ | Protection of the Valkyrie's Runes B+

by Haza_Souz



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: BrynJeanne, F/F, LIKE HAPPY GAY LOVE, NOT LIKE THE KIND WHERE SHE WANTS TO STAB HER, REAL FULL LOVE, TRUE BRYN HAS FAKE BRYNS MEMORIES AND SHES FALLING IN LOVE WITH JALTER, completely inaccurate and completely in-universally inaccurate uses of sacraments and rune magic, still crying weakly about the post demon pillar scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haza_Souz/pseuds/Haza_Souz
Summary: The Maid of Orleans knew how to wear armour, and she also knew how annoying it was to put it on yourself.





	

It was like squiring for a statue, pale skin and ethereal beauty.

The armour was of a different make, too, thought Jeanne d'Arc, Dragon Witch of Orleans. No plate mail or shoddy breastplates, but elegant, featherlike sections of metal that fitted on the underlying cloth wraps. She bit her lip. Her gloves were off, to give her better dexterity, but that also meant that her fingers were constantly brushing against Brynhildr's skin, and she was trying hard to not notice the way that Bryn's arms would twitch every time their skin met. She was sure that the taller, more elegant woman was smiling faintly and fondly at her, something she absolutely could not allow herself to check for fear of losing all focus.

The pauldron was on, finally, and a final grip and shake to check that it was secured was done. Jeanne glanced up at Brynhildr when she saw that her head was turned to the side; and again she was struck by the way Brynhildr looked so very inhuman at times. Her arms and legs were slender, even more so than Servants' usually were. More than once, she'd seen Brynhildr bring up her spearhead to counter a hulking Oni or wolf-man's club and tried to drag La Pucelle out of its sheath fast enough to interfere, only to watch her bat away the massive block of wood like she was using a fork to flick a pea off her plate. And her face, oh, it was so delicate that it might break at a touch, but she knew better - seen her take a hit from Ea, from sword and spear and curse and blast - and it always made the urge in her rise, the urge to touch her lips, her saintly, canonised lips to Brynhildr's face and place the protection of the Lord on it and on her.

Her stomach churned, and she looked down, seeing the way Brynhildr's short combat skirt stopped at least two hands above her cuisse. She reddened faintly, kneeling down in front of the sitting Brynhildr.

"Don't you have anything for this? You'll get cut here, bleed out, and die!" Her hands hovered above the area in question. "You..."

"I'll be safe," hummed Brynhildr, and it really did sound musical, a steady, husky voice that made Jeanne shiver harder the closer Brynhildr's mouth was to her ear. She shook her head to clear her mind.

"You could be more safe!", snapped Jeanne, leaning her head forwards. She was half-certain she wouldn't actually go through with the half-baked idea she had in her head, and that's what she believed for the half a second it took her head to dip down, touching her lips to the tops of Brynhildr's thighs so briefly it's almost like it never really happened, one after the other. Jeanne flinched back and stared at the floor beside her, blushing and frowning equally, not very successfully ignoring the way her flesh had shifted underneath her lips, or how it would look at a certain angle. Heavens, how would she explain this? Something about saints?

"I'm a saint! You, your thighs are a major danger area - you die fast if you get cut there! So I just... blessed them, okay? i'm a holy maiden, dammit! I should be able to bless things, right?! ...Shut up!", she added feebly, hands in fists as she knelt there, avoiding eye contact. Her stomach was churning.

Brynhildr smiled softly, kneeling down in front of her, one hand slipping down and stroking Jeanne's thighs between the armour and leggings, pointing out Jeanne's hypocrisy. "I thank you. But you..." Maybe it was temporary madness, or an unfortunate train of thought, but immediately Jeanne flashed to the most reciprocal of things Brynhildr could do (she was such a sappy romantic that it went past cut, past gross, past amusing, right back around to heart-pounding. This is what's making me blush?!

"No! Definitely don't kiss me there! You're, you're not a holy maiden! It wouldn't have any effect! Okay?!"

Her finger unfolding and drawing a shape that Jeanne didn't recognise on her thigh, soft skin yielding underneath her touch, Brynhildr lifted her free hand to cup Jeanne's cheek, tilting her head towards her. They hadn't done the gauntlets yet, but Jeanne knew that Brynhildr's hand wasn't actually this cold; no, it was her cheek that was overly heated right now. "...Can I please enchant you with a rune of protection, then?", Brynhildr whispered as she drew her head close, and their noses touched gently as Jeanne managed to bring her gaze back around and look at Brynhildr again.

She was so, so beautiful that it made Jeanne nearly angry again, her cute nose, gentle eyes and elegant fringe stunning her into silence as her love looped around and became paralysis. Brynhildr's breath dusted over her mouth, warm, and Jeanne imagined Bryn's fingers on her lips, tracing from one side to the other, circling and skipping from lip to lip. Her eyes had closed all by themselves; dully she felt that Brynhildr had finished stroking over her thigh.

Her only warning was an amused little sigh from Bryn, then a small movement of air suggesting that Brynhildr had moved her head - and then she felt slowly how two hands went to either side of her leg and hair dusted over it, and her eyes shot open just in time to see Brynhildr's lips settle on the top of her thigh. She coughed and gasped and tried to move, but couldn't, not even imagine it. She didn't want her to stop, and yet she wanted Brynhildr to have never done it,

Brynhildr lifted her head, the long, flowing white-tinged hair flowing around her head with movements that didn't really behave the way that they should. Ethereal. To Hell with this Odin's daughter stuff, Brynhildr was some kind of angel, Jeanne thought desperately in the moments before Brynhildr's eyes fluttered closed and her lips pursed. They met, Jeanne making the final few breaths and leaning forward against Brynhildr. Lips, soft and warm, touched and pressed against each other, draining Jeanne's strength, a happy weakness settling in place of her upright spine and tensed muscles.

Almost helplessly, she wound her arms around Brynhildr's neck, holding herself steady on her tall, tall girlfriend. Moments later, she felt those slim, yet immeasurably strong arms wind around her torso, half-cradling her, holding her upright and proud.

She remembered telling Brynhildr that contact of intent on the body of a saint was a Sin unto the Lord once, and that a toll would have to be paid, an indulgence granted, to make reparations. Brynhildr had smiled that divine, yes, that was the right word, divine smile, and whispered her guess as to the toll into Jeanne's ear, making the shorter girl shiver.

"You want me to kiss you... don't you?"

Jeanne sighed shakily into Brynhildr's lips, feeling warmth pool in her bones and seep into every part of her being, like she was being slowly transformed into molten gold, and if that was the downside of being kissed and held and loved like this by a woman more beautiful than anyone had any right to be, then Jeanne would pay it a thousand times over.

"I love you so, Jeanne," Brynhildr said quietly against her mouth, tongue slowly probing Jeanne's lips, the blush on both their faces deepening.

Brynhildr paid her toll in full to her cute, pretty, admirable, courageous girlfriend, and then again that night, just before they went to sleep, but long after they went to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> The rumour comes out
> 
> Does Bryn Is Gay?


End file.
